


I Keep Missing You, I Want To Hear From You

by sunsetglow (suchfun)



Category: 2PM
Genre: Frottage, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 10:26:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1118803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suchfun/pseuds/sunsetglow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chansung is the only one who keeps in regular contact. Nichkhun doesn't hear much from the other members, but they're busy. They're training to defend their country. </p>
<p>Nichkhun is catching up on Gossip Girl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Keep Missing You, I Want To Hear From You

**Author's Note:**

> So many thanks to Michelle for the beta, and to Jess and Mary for the cheerleading and Bek for answering all of my random questions. Originally written for the 2013 [Kpop Olymfics](http://kpop-olymfics.livejournal.com), where I was assigned to Team Future with the prompt [ Ga-in - Bloom](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K64mb5KUhhs). Reposted from [here](http://morago.livejournal.com/11948.html).

Nichkhun doesn't see anyone much in the week before the members of Oneday enlist. They're all too busy saying goodbye to everyone else, friends and industry seniors and family, and it feels like it's started already.

It's probably stupid to be so upset about it. It's not like he's never been separated from the members. And it's not like he isn't used to missing the people he loves. He's spent most of his life being away from one family or the other, it's nothing new. It's not like he didn't know it was coming either—the guys have been talking about it and preparing for years. It just... came too soon. He doesn't feel ready to let go, to be alone again, and he just wishes they had more time.

At least they all manage to set aside time a few nights before their enlistment for a Oneday Party, a proper goodbye, just them and a noraebang. 

Of course, just because there are only ten people in one room doesn't mean it isn't rowdier than a house party with a hundred guests. It just seems to be a speciality of theirs, and Nichkhun doesn't know whether to feel bereft or amused as he watches from the sidelines, taking photos with Jinwoon's camera, content not to interrupt the fun. 

Chansung joins him after a while, reaching out to hold Nichkhun's lemonade when Seulong and Taec drunkenly end up in a very compromising position on the floor and Nichkhun needs both hands for his camera.

"You'll never be able to show anyone those photos," Chansung says, laughing, and Nichkhun nods, taking another set as Kwon and Wooyoung throw themselves into the fray. 

"That's alright. I'll just keep them in a hidden folder and pine over them by myself in a darkened room for the next two years." 

He snaps one of Chansung too, who grins goofily for him.

"You won't miss us, hyung," Chansung says confidently. "You'll be out there, keeping 2PM alive for the rest of us. And when we come back we'll be stronger than ever." 

Nichkhun laughs. "You've reached a new low when you start using our own lyrics in motivational speeches, Chansung-ah."

"Everything happens for a reason, hyung," Chansung says seriously. There's no detectable accent in his words at all, Chansung so much more confident with his English now, and Nichkhun wonders when that even happened.

His attention is drawn back to the others when Kwon squeals as Seulong gives him a wedgie, and Nichkhun shakes his head. He's pretty sure he just got an amazing photo of Minjun's hand down Junho's pants.

"We're getting our heads shaved tomorrow," Chansung says after a while, so quietly Nichkhun barely hears it over Jinwoon warbling his way through some trot song.

"Should I come too? I need a trim."

Chansung snorts. "I think our fans would cry themselves to sleep every night until it grew back."

"I think they'll be too busy crying over you guys to care about me."

"Hyung." Chansung frowns, lips pursing. Nichkhun forces himself not to look away. "People will always care about you."

Chansung's tone makes it seem more personal than his words, makes it seem private and meaningful and significant, and Nichkhun wants to ask him what he means, who he's speaking for, if there's a deeper meaning, but they literally get pulled out of their conversation instead, dragged by drunken, laughing idiots into one last Dirty Eyed Girls parody. It's a good thing, Nichkhun decides. It's not the right time, and it probably never will be.

When they get shaved they all take a photo together. Nichkhun keeps a copy in his wallet.

+

There's a few things to tidy up in Korea first, but after three weeks of spending most of his time hanging around the JYPE practice rooms desperate for someone to talk to, he decides it's time for a change.

JYP approves him for a break. He flies to Thailand, spends some time with his family. Does one or two low-key promotional events, smiles, waves, repeats.

He doesn't hear much from the members, but they're busy. They're training to defend their country.

Nichkhun is catching up on _Gossip Girl_.

+

Chansung is the only one who keeps in regular contact. 

Chansung writes:

_Hyung, my base has access to an internet cafe! I'll try to write regularly. It shouldn't be a problem, because I keep thinking of things to tell you, but you're not here. ㅠㅠ_

Nichkhun remembers when they first met, how they couldn't communicate at all. How Chansung was this giant, gangly kid, who didn't look anything like a kid, who had wild hair and couldn't hold a note and who was chosen to be part of an idol group anyway. How they had both been the worst at everything. How Taec, Nichkhun's one real connection to the world around him, had always been looking for excitement and so kept abandoning him for more interesting people. How Chansung had always made an effort to include him.

How they'd slowly learned to understand and trust each other, and how, now that everyone's gone, it feels as if there's a huge hole in his heart and Chansung's emails are the only things that seem to help patch it up.

+

The first person Nichkhun is intimate with in a long time tells him her name is Angel.

She's Thai, and she's pretty, willowy and delicate, dyed blonde hair, probably older than him. She knows who he is but she's mature enough to be calm, to take things slowly and comfortably. They meet at the market, they have dinner and dessert together, and then he takes her back to the room he's staying in at Nichan's house. 

Nichan is in Indonesia. The house is empty. It takes them less than thirty minutes to gravitate towards the bedroom, and another two for them to disrobe.

She's wearing a blue camisole underneath her top, and it should be frumpy but instead it only complements her elegance, so he doesn't take it off. He just traces his fingers over the scratchy lace across the neckline, lingering for only a moment before he rucks it up and concentrates on removing her matching panties.

He eases her legs apart and leans in, running his nose up her thigh, and she's so soft and warm when he presses down gently with his tongue, his shoulders fitting too perfectly in the hooks of her knees. Her fingers brush over the back of his neck, his ears, his cheekbones, gentle and tender, and he finds himself wishing for more. 

For. For strength, maybe. For something he doesn't feel like he has to be careful with. Something… someone who won't be careful with _him_.

He makes her come anyway, because it isn't her fault that she's everything he's supposed to want, but doesn't.

+

As a general rule, Nichkhun tries not to put much stock in labels. There are some he can't escape—idol, celebrity, role model—but then there are others, more personal ones. Ones that mean so much to people he's never even met, is never going to meet. People who will (who have) lost interest, moved on to live their own lives. People who will judge him anyway.

Straight. Gay. Bisexual.

It's frustrating. There are few individuals he really trusts in this world, and even less that he would trust with his heart, so having those kinds of limitations placed upon him is just…

You love who you love. It's something he's learned over the years, but it's only now that he's 28, and that there isn't a camera in front of his face eighteen hours a day, that he might actually be able to live it out.

+

Chansung writes:

_It's weird to say, hyung, but I wish you were here. Everyone gets up on time and everyone is quiet when they should be, but I miss having you around to scold me anyway._

It's strange for Nichkhun, too. For the first time in years, he keeps sleeping in.

+

JYP calls him with a proposition. "You and Changmin-ah. What do you think?"

Nichkhun thinks: it will never be more obvious how lacking I am.

Nichkhun says: "That's a great idea."

He's on a plane back to Korea three days later.

+

It's a given that Changmin sings better than he does, but Nichkhun tries not to be too disappointed when Changmin even dances better than he does. It's a mid-tempo song, the best of both worlds, written by Changmin himself. The choreo isn't flashy but it's finicky, requiring a smoothness of movement and a fluidity of the hips that has never come naturally to him. 

They work well together and although the age gap, as well as the quiet focus Changmin exudes, is difficult to get used to at first, Changmin is much more experienced with subunits and being away from 2AM and learning to work with someone new, and he and Namyong work to ensure that everyone communicates about their headspace at all times.

Nichkhun feels like Changmin's always held himself slightly apart from the rest of them, never quite been as willing to throw himself into the chaos as Kwon or Seulong, but again, that could be the age thing, or even the fact that he completed his army duty so young. Still, he feels safe in asking him things, things he might not ask any of the other men, just in case.

"What was it like," Nichkhun says quietly one night as they're packing up to leave, panting and sweating and exhausted, but the good kind, the kind he feels in his bones, the kind that feels accomplished, "doing your army service?"

Changmin pauses, looks at him sidelong. Nichkhun's heard all of his stories before, the ones he's willing to share anyway, everyone has. It's just. Nichkhun needs something now, some... Reassurance, maybe?

He tries not to let it show but it must anyway, because Changmin smiles and pats his shoulder. "It was… illuminating."

Nichkhun frowns. "Helpful."

+

They call themselves 2+2 (Nichkhun can't remember who thought of it—maybe Wooyoung?), and their first stage is… okay. They prerecord their songs (a medley of 2AM and 2PM songs as a supporting song as well their title track) and fulfill the rest of their duties, filming a few spots backstage and an interview with the MCs.

In between, Changmin chats and laughs with everyone else.

Nichkhun makes an effort to greet the staff and any sunbaes, and then finds somewhere quiet and thinks about what he can do better next time.

+

When he was younger, less experienced, less tired, he liked to tell himself that it wasn't his fault, that it couldn't be. How could he help it if Koreans liked his face so much and JYPE decided to use that to their advantage?

But the truth was that it _was_ his fault, even if it was just a little bit. It was easy to go along with it, the special treatment he got because of his face. It had been all his life and he was so used to it that it became second nature to rely on it, even when he wanted to prove that his looks weren't the only thing he had. That there was more to him than his small face and big eyes and cute expressions.

That all changed over time of course, scandals and age depleting peoples' interest, making it harder to become adored because of his name alone, but the difference is, Nichkhun welcomes it now.

The lights are still blinding, but the screams of 'NI-ICH-KHUN, NI-ICH-KHUN, NI-ICH-KHUN' that used to buoy his entire being feel more like weights dragging him to the ground.

+

There's an article about idol group subunits online. 2+2 is listed underneath TaeTiSeo.

Changmin is referred to as 'a man whose vocals are no joke', and the rest of the paragraph is split between his singing prowess and Oneday's history. The only mention of Nichkhun is his hair (dark red now, and long enough to style into little devil horns to match their good vs evil concept), in the very last sentence. He doesn't even dare to read the netizen's comments.

Chansung would tell him something profound and heartfelt, if he was here, something reassuring but not condescending. Nichkhun settles for retweeting Paulo Coelho.

+

Wooyoung always used to be the one who had trouble sleeping. Taec could drop off at any moment, all Minjun needed was a soothing song and he was mouth-breathing his way into slumber, Junho worked hard to tire himself out enough to fall asleep immediately, but Wooyoung was usually too busy worrying. Thinking about ways to improve himself, because he always seemed to be under the ridiculous notion that he was lacking everything.

Nichkhun used to worry about him, but now he understands completely. The last time he slept properly was probably back in Thailand, the night before he got the subunit proposal from JYP. He tries to exercise, tries to read and then to listen to music, tries hot milk, but his brain remains stubbornly engaged with the world around him, and sleep is as elusive as ever.

He wanders into the living area, hands in the pockets of his loose sleeping pants, and wonders what he can possibly do. There's only so many times that he can vacuum the already-pristine floor. He did all the dishes two nights ago and hasn't used any since. All his washing is taken care of. He waxed his chest last week.

"Now what?" he mutters, his voice cutting into the silence. The apartment being so quiet is probably one of the reasons he can't sleep, actually. There was always noise in the villa, someone going in or out or clacking at computer keys or singing in the shower or snoring. There was movement, there was _life_.

Maybe he should get a dog.

It's on his way into the kitchen, where he may have been going to eat his feelings, that he notices the boxes stacked in the corner, the last couple of ones containing his stuff from the villa. He only ever unpacked the essentials, happy enough with the clutter of the boxes since it was restricted to one small section of the room, so maybe it's time to finally finish going through them.

They're full of fan-made stuff mostly, some special things he couldn't bring himself to get rid of, but it's in the second box that he finds a bunch of photo albums and his old camera. Old really means old, too—it was his mom's when she was a kid. His dad didn't really endorse photography or the arts (ironic, considering Nichkhun's current profession) so she gave it up when they married, but she gave the camera to Nichkhun before he went to New Zealand when he was a kid, so that he could take pictures and send them to her. He never had, because he'd been busy, because his dad would have hated it if he'd thought Nichkhun was wasting his time taking pictures instead of doing something useful, but then he'd brought the camera to Korea and used it a lot as a trainee. It's broken now; too old to justify fixing, especially since he doesn't even know where he could get film processed any more, but he decided a long time ago that he's going to give it to his own son, one day.

Abandoning his half-hearted clean up, Nichkhun grabs the photo albums and takes them to bed, looking through them carefully, remembering.

In the last page of the second book, there's a really good photo of Chansung from right back in the first year after they debuted. His hair is long and he's perched on edge of a balcony, the setting sun sending light playing over the city behind him, striking colour into the monochrome. Nichkhun doesn't remember where it was taken. Chansung looks beautiful.

Nichkhun sets it as his phone wallpaper, and falls asleep not long afterwards.

+

Promotions for 2+2 end quietly. They do their last goodbye stage without relying on anything too flashy, instead choosing to perform an acoustic medley, and it's one of Nichkhun's best vocal performances. It's relaxing, almost, because there's no more pressure, and he doesn't have to compete with the music or remember choreography or watch out for the flashing lights or stage pyrotechnics. 

Changmin is quiet in the van back to JYPE, and when they pull up outside the building neither of them get out straight away. When Nichkhun looks at Changmin he's watching him carefully, and then he leans over, pulling Nichkhun into his arms.

"Thank you, hyung," Nichkhun says, leaning into the hug, finally letting himself relax.

Changmin pulls back to smile, patting Nichkhun on the shoulder and climbing out. Nichkhun tugs his cap down to hide his bare face, grabbing his backpack and feeling light for the first time in far too long, which is of course when he gets the phone call.

JYP doesn't even greet him. "What about a drama, Nichkhun-ah?"

Nichkhun thinks: oh dear god why please just leave me alone.

Nichkhun says: "Tell me the details, hyung."

Like he doesn't already know that he's going to say yes.

+

It's his first lead role in anything, and every day, every hour, every minute after he accepts the part, he can't help but wonder—why does he do this to himself? The relief he felt once the 2+2 promotions ended is a faint memory now, now that he's taking acting lessons and attending table reads and learning from stunt coordinators and filming for what is sometimes twenty hours a day.

The buzz before they started shooting seemed really negative (another Japanese remake, why are two idols playing the leads, the PD's patchy track record), so he decided early on that he isn't going to read anything about it, no matter how curious he gets.

After the very first broadcast Chansung writes:

_My sergeant is a big Sulli fan, so I'll get to watch every episode~^^ Hyung, you look tired, are you sleeping? Even still, you look so handsome and refined in that butler uniform! It's so good to see you again, even if it is only on TV. The other soldiers keep asking me questions about Sulli, but I only told them things about you, I promise 크크_

The others write too—Taec says something lame about how he should wink more, Junho complains about how Nichkhun's the only one out of all of them to play who character who actually gets the girl, Wooyoung recommends him some songs to listen to so he get in the right headspace. Kwon is encouraging, Seulong warns him he'll be monitoring everything so Nichkhun better not screw up, Jinwoon passes on some advice.

Minjun is the only one not to email, which Nichkhun worries about. Everyone else got stationed somewhere decent, but he knows Minjun got sent to one of the harsher bases, which makes his concern all the worse. Not only that but he remembers what Minjun was like when they were trainees, and just hopes he doesn't try sneaking out and undermining authority like he used to. Minjun's surprised them all before though, and he's been through so much. He's much more resilient than most people give him credit for, and that is what Nichkhun remembers every time it hits 4am and they're three hours behind schedule and he feels like he's going to drop.

Thoughts of his brothers are the only things that get him through the entire gruelling three month shoot.

+

Promotions for the drama in Japan are short and sweet—get in, attend the press conference, guest on a few talk shows, get out again two days later. They're also boring as hell.

Boredom is something every celebrity is intimately familiar with, in fact Nichkhun is convinced that's why they're all paid so much, but since he's alone, the only cast member who could attend, it's all the more excruciating. It doesn't help that he's let his Japanese get really rusty without Taec around to give his random pop quizzes, and he fumbles his way through the first day, feeling exhausted and inadequate by the end of it.

It doesn't happen often, but all he really wants is a drink. He won't indulge it, he hasn't since that stupid fucking accident that could have been so much worse than it was, could have ruined the lives of himself and so many others. He goes to the gym instead.

It's pretty much empty at this time of night, only the rowing machine and treadmill in commission. Nichkhun heads directly for the free weights, glancing around as he organises himself. 

The guy on the treadmill is tall. He has thick legs and a long waist, hair that flicks into his eyes with every second step. Nichkhun is drawn to him immediately, trying not to be too conspicuous as he watches him, but from the way the guy smirks at him as soon as he powers down his machine and steps off, Nichkhun figures it didn't really work.

The guy takes a long swig of his water, throat bobbing, before he saunters over to Nichkhun, settling next to him, hands occasionally brushing his for absolutely no reason at all. They work steadily, breathing through their reps and sets, and when they finally finish, the guy follows Nichkhun back up to his room.

+

It isn't working. It was stupid to think it would, to think that anyone could substitute, but he had to try, had to make sure what he wanted was specific, not just lust borne from sexual frustration and loneliness.

He's sure now.

The sweat has barely dried when the guy throws his clothes back on and steps into his shoes. Nichkhun watches him, his stomach already beginning to fold in on itself as he thinks about what he's just done. The guy hesitates at the door, reaching into his bag and pulling out something, tossing it to Nichkhun. He catches it reflexively, and then the guy is gone.

He looks down. The red apple is smooth and cool in his hands, and he should be thinking, what the hell, who just fucks someone and gives them an apple, what a dick, but instead—

Adam and Eve, he thinks. And Snow White.

Nichkhun collapses back against the white sheets, wondering what the hell he thought he was doing.

+

It's an impulse thing, because he can't sleep again and he has to be up in two hours and he's so restless it's like he doesn't belong in his own skin, but as soon as he's sent it, he knows it's a mistake. But by then it's far too late—the email is sitting innocently in Chansung's inbox, and the damage is done.

He's used words like 'love' and 'forever', and there's no coming back from that.

+

Trying not to check his phone for new email notifications proves useless—as soon he lands back in Korea, he glances at it every ten minutes, just in case, but there's nothing from Chansung.

A week later, there's still nothing.

Nichkhun hates feeling this helpless, but there's nothing he can do. He can't force Chansung to contact him. All he can do is go back and reread the stupid words he sent, the stupid sentiments he thought would be appropriate to reveal over an _email_ , and keep living his life.

He signs on to an MC job with Min, something involving foreign fans and interviews and speaking both English and Korean. He does a photoshoot with Victoria, which is awkward as usual since they only speak to each other for the cameras. He films a CF. He goes through the motions. He repeats.

+

When Chansung finally contacts him, it's about spending one of his vacation days together. Nichkhun knows he should ask for an explanation, knows it shouldn't be this easy, but instead he asks him if he's sure. The army doesn't really allow you that many days off, and surely Chansung wants to spend them with his family, but Chansung insists.

Nichkhun is much happier during the second week of filming (he tries not to be, but it comes through in too many ways he can't control), and when Min asks him why, he just shrugs.

+

Nichkhun tries to pretend that he isn't counting down the days.

And then the day finally comes and he can't concentrate and he can barely eat and then he sees Chansung's face and it's like the world has colour again, and he realises it's far too late for pretense.

+

He takes Chansung to a small Italian restaurant near his place. It's expensive, and Chansung raises a brow as he looks over the menu, but the food is excellent. It's also private, considering the owner used to be a Hottest and always makes sure Nichkhun gets a private table in the back.

She just about spontaneously combusts when she sees Chansung with him, although for a fan she's still pretty tame, and Nichkhun makes a mental note to ask Chansung to sign something for her before they leave.

"Order whatever you want," he says, folding his own menu closed. He doesn't know why he even opened it, he always means to try something new but has the same thing every time.

"Are you sure you mean that, hyung?" Chansung's mouth tilts upwards.

"Would I say something to you I didn't mean, Chansung-ah?"

Chansung's eyes turn soft, and Khun thinks he might be going to say something about—

But then the waiter comes to take their orders. They skip the entrees but ask for four mains, both declining alcoholic beverages for different reasons, and then let their conversation delve back into lighter territory with talk of other people—the other members, those stationed with Chansung, trainees Nichkhun thinks seem promising—until their food arrives.

It's probably super creepy, but Khun doesn't actually eat much of his own pasta. Instead, he watches Chansung eat, uses this chance to take stock of all the changes that have transformed him, the little habits and gestures he refused to let himself miss.

Chansung eats a lot more efficiently than he used to. He makes sure not to spill any food on his amy fatigues, keeps his plate and face clean, and his fork even has less food piled on it than before, but he's just as fast. He chews quickly and methodically, not even stopping to taste anything, but considering the descriptions of army food Nichkhun has heard that's probably a good thing.

"Yah," Chansung says softly, drawing his attention back to the present. "Did you... You meant what you said in the email too, didn't you." 

It's a strange hybrid of statement and question, but Nichkhun's answer is the same either way. This is what he's been waiting for since he finally saw Chansung in the flesh again, and he wants to make sure his response is very, very clear. "I meant every word."

Chansung nods slowly, looks down at his empty plate. 

Nichkhun takes a breath. He doesn't know if... What he's about to do next will either make everything better or worse. It's a gamble, but he wouldn't even be here, with Chansung, at a private table for famous people, in _Korea_ , if he wasn't willing to take risks.

He leans forward, sliding his clammy hand under the table to wipe it on his jeans before inching it forward, groping for Chansung's knee. 

Maybe he should be worried about getting caught.

Maybe he would if this didn't feel so important.

He finds the tablecloth by accident, bunching it between his fingers and then using his other hand to straighten it out on top and mask what he's doing underneath.

"What are you—" Chansung says, frowning, but then Nichkhun's fingers find purchase on the denim of his jeans, sliding up and resting on his inner thigh.

The transformation of Chansung's eyes, from bright to dark, is heady, and so is the movement of his throat as he swallows.

"For once, I don't feel like dessert," he murmurs. "You?"

"Nothing I could eat in public," Nichkhun blurts, surprising even himself with his crudeness.

Chansung's laugh is a beautiful, thrilling thing, and Nichkhun squeezes his knee before he pulls away and calls for the bill.

+

For all that he's _famous_ and _rich_ and _handsome_ , Nichkhun really hasn't had all that much sex. He lost his virginity at a young age, and he's certainly had his fair share of sexual experiences, he just. He's picky. He discovered pretty early on that one night stands aren't really his thing, passable in a pinch but too impersonal, the behaviour encouraging a certain disrespect for one another that he was brought up to abhor.

Not only that, but he's had to be so careful and has been kept so busy that when he has been granted time off, it's been much more worth it to just sleep than go out looking for trouble. He has enough maturity and imagination that he can go without sex for a while if he has to.

Sleeping with Chansung, though, that's probably one of the things he's imagined the most. He's played it all through in his head, so many times—the way he'll take control, the way Chansung will yield to him, the way they'll fit together and how beautiful it will be. 

Thankfully, Chansung completely contradicts his every expectation.

For one, Chansung is the dominating one right from the beginning. As soon as they get in the door of Nichkhun's apartment he starts pulling off his own shirt, and when Nichkhun goes to follow suit Chansung stops him.

"Let me," he breathes.

It only gets better from there.

Chansung drags him towards the open door of his bedroom, wrestling their clothes off as they go. He backs Nichkhun up to the bed and then throws him down onto it, parting his legs and sliding up his body until their hips align. Chansung is completely naked but has, for some reason, left Nichkhun's underwear and wifebeater on, and Nichkhun whines, wanting to feel skin on skin.

"Chansung-ah," Khun complains, pulling at his boxers, but again, Chansung grabs his wrists and pulls them away, leaning down to breathe into Nichkhun's ear.

" _Let_ me."

Nichkhun looks up at him, eyes wide, panting hard, and… lets him.

He lets go.

Chansung rocks their groins together, hard perfect pressure against Nichkhun's dick, and leans in for a kiss. Nichkhun opens up for him straight away, unwilling to play games, sliding his tongue against Chansung's, across his lips and dipping into his mouth.

Chansung's hips speed up and he wrenches away from Nichkhun's mouth, burying his face in Nichkhun's shoulder and licking at him. Nichkhun clutches at the back of Chansung's neck, his fingers digging in, and he's just barely remembered that he can't leave marks when Chansung wraps his arms around Nichkhun and turns him over, depositing him on his stomach. He grinds his dick between Nichkhun's ass cheeks and Nichkhun groans, reaching for him. Chansung ignores him, pressing Nichkhun's body down with his own, hands hot and possessive, one around his jaw, thumb in his mouth, the other clenching down on Nichkhun's own hand, fingers slipping together against the mattress.

Nichkhun's breath hitches right as Chansung's fingers tighten around his own, and he comes into his boxers, feeling Chansung follow him a few moments later, coming over the backs of his thighs.

+

"I won't lie to you," Chansung murmurs, afterwards. Chansung was the one to clean up, something Nichkhun always took it upon himself to do with his other partners, and he'd wondered if it should feel weird as Chansung dragged down his ruined boxers, manoeuvring them carefully over his dick and down his legs. He's wiped both of them up with Nichkhun's wifebeater before settling them down, Nichkhun on his back, Chansung draped over him, and the only thing that was weird was how weird it hadn't felt. 

They're chest to chest now, weary, breaths slowing. Chansung's cheek is pressed into the curve of his shoulder and Nichkhun can't not touch him, keeps running his fingertips over his back, brushing down over the curve of his ass, up to press into his hairline.

"Good," Nichkhun says, wondering if it's wise to be this brave.

Chansung exhales, a rush of hot air against his shoulder. "You scare me," he admits quietly.

"Good," Nichkhun repeats. "I'm a really scary hyung."

Chansung leans forward to bite his bicep gently, playfully, pressing his teeth deeper into Nichkhun's skin for a moment before letting go and licking over the teeth marks in apology. "Shut up."

"Okay," Nichkhun agrees.

Chansung pauses, and Nichkhun can practically hear him thinking, before he continues haltingly. "Your email, it was. I wasn't expecting it. We've never… I always knew that I felt that way about you, but." Chansung finally rolls off him, sprawling beside him and stretching out his whole body with a dramatic groan. Nichkhun isn't sure which part of him to watch. He has scars now, on his torso, but Nichkhun hasn't asked about them. Chansung will tell him when he's ready. "We're okay, right?"

Nichkhun nods, because they are. He doesn't even want to imagine a world in which they aren't. " _We_ are. Are _you_?" he asks softly.

Chansung turns to him, his face so close Nichkhun is almost giving his nose a butterfly kiss. He looks at Nichkhun, really looks at him, like Nichkhun is more than just someone to revere, more than just a poster on a wall or a figure on stage or a number on a cheque, and even though he knows it's foolish, it's unwise and impossible, Nichkhun wants him to stay forever.

"I am now," Chansung promises.

Nichkhun takes the initiative this time, straddling Chansung and leaning down for more kisses. 

+

Chansung is barely even gone four hours before Nichkhun starts missing him.

Actually, he's kidding himself.

Chansung had been out of his line of sight for four seconds and Nichkhun had already felt hollow.

+

He's in the kitchen a day later, remembering what Chansung looked like afterwards, wearing Nichkhun's too-long sweatpants, bite mark on his collarbone, grinning at him and nudging him and smoothing down his hair as they scarfed down banana splits at the counter, and before he knows it he's jerking off, sliding to the floor and coming in his pants like he's fifteen years younger than he is.

It's kind of pathetic.

It's just as well Nichkhun came to the conclusion years ago that he doesn't mind being pathetic in the name of love.

+

Chansung's next email is uncharacteristically brief. Nichkhun wonders what happened when he wrote it. Did he want to write more but a superior officer claimed the computer? Or was he happy with this one line, did he know how it would make Nichkhun feel, how it would make Nichkhun smile for days afterwards? How it would make Nichkhun realise that they still have a long way to go, but he should cherish every moment anyway?

Chansung writes:

_I keep missing you. I want to hear from you._

Nichkhun smiles.


End file.
